


when the bell rings

by comedyke



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Teachers, M/M, idek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 03:50:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10267499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comedyke/pseuds/comedyke
Summary: “I’m saying that I like you! I’ve liked you this whole bleedingyear!”Charles whisper-snarls. Outside the faculty bathroom, the bell rings, classroom doors open, and students pour out into the locker bay to switch their supplies for their next class.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this a long-ass time ago and i don't care

“I’m saying that I like you! I’ve liked you this whole bleeding _year!”_ Charles whisper-snarls. Outside the faculty bathroom, the bell rings, classroom doors open, and students pour out into the locker bay to switch their supplies for their next class. Erik barely registers it at all, still too swept up in the words the Charles has spat at him almost vehemently, and blinks.

From what he can gather, this entire year—September to June—Charles Francis Xavier, the adorable, English-accented and cardigan-donning Biology teacher has _liked_ him. (And for nine months, Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, the less adorable Civics teacher, has liked Charles.) Nine months.

_Enough time to have a child,_ Erik’s mind blips dimly, a stupid piece of information that only makes this situation even less comprehensible, given that they’re still pressed up against each other in the unlit staff bathroom, and Charles’ red lips are mere inches away from Erik’s own, if he just tugged him down a _little bit further—_

No. Well, _yes,_ but no. They’re still in a damn bathroom, which is not a place Erik wants this to start. He doesn’t want it to end, either, but he figures it’s probably better than the alternative… which could be losing their jobs, or, at the very least, being told off for missing their class by Principal Stryker. Erik avoids the man, even when they’re just passing in the halls.

_Oh, classes,_ Erik’s barely functioning mind exclaims, _you have one of those in six minutes._

Plenty of time to sort this out; his classroom is just around the hall, and Jean Grey can probably sort the rest of the kids out and teach the entire lesson in his absence, anyway.

“How could you not notice? Even the _students_ have been pointing things out.” Charles breath hits Erik’s exposed neck, and he shivers. Charles is a few inches shorter than him, but Erik likes how comfortably he seems to fit in the crook of his collarbone. That hot puff of air on the sensitive skin of his throat mixed with the cool tile on the back of his arms and head is a mingling of weird sensations.

That and the fact that the man who he’s fantasized having this close for months is literally pressing him up against a wall, which was one of the highest on his list of fantasies to begin with. It’s a heady rush, one that he shouldn’t be having with thirteen and fourteen-year olds right outside the door, probably talking about something much purer and more innocent than this, blissfully unaware that two of their male teachers are plastered up against each other against the wall of the bathroom, just behind the wall. Being in a school definitely takes the sexual edge off of things.

But it’s not his fault he’s in here. He just went into the bathroom to wash his hands after lunch, when Charles followed him in and shoved him up against the wall.

It was his fault that he kind of accidentally—totally on purpose despite where he was—wore a tight shirt and barely appropriate shorts that day on purpose, just to see what would happen. He’d noticed in the winter when he’d worn skinny jeans that Charles’ eyes seemed to linger on his legs more than usual, which wasn’t very long to begin with, though Erik chalked that up more to the presence of hall monitors than anything else.

Not that Erik hadn’t been one step away from doing the same exact thing, either. Charles has been teasing him since the first day of school, with his charming smile, short, stocky build, and the bluest eyes Erik has ever _seen—_

But it isn’t just that, either, of course it isn’t. Charles is amazing with his students, smart as hell, the kindest person in the entire building, and he actually _listens_ to Erik ramble on about the broken justice system and the election—being a Civics teacher, he actually has to pay attention to the inevitable demise of America—which no one has ever done before, at least, not really.

That combined with the physical attributes, and the fact that Erik is a sucker for English accents, it was only a matter of time before Erik succumbed to the other teacher’s charms. And that was only in _October_. He was fucking dying over Winter Break. Two full weeks without Charles; he’d barely survived. That made coming back to school so much better… and not just for him, but also the students, who couldn’t help but notice Mr. Lehnsherr’s unusually good mood for the following week after school started again.

“Are you even listening to me?” Charles hisses, the low pitch of his voice in Erik’s ear making him shudder. Erik comes back to reality—the reality that’s playing like a fantasy, a dream he’s been having for months now. The dominance one had come in pretty early on, when he’d heard Charles practically destroying a misbehaving child in the hall. Maybe that wasn’t something he should draw an erotic image of his fellow staff member from, but it stuck with him for a while.

“What? Sorry, I—you’re… no, I just.” Erik looks away from the piercing blue eyes as he stammers nervously. “Continue, sorry.”

Charles lets out a huff, almost angry, but not quite. “I was asking if you wanted to out to dinner on Friday after school.”

Erik nods his head frantically, and balls his left hand up in a celebratory fist, his mind raining confetti and streamers and popping bottles of champagne left and right, a party it’s been subconsciously planning for months. _You’re getting dinner, you’re getting dinner,_ his mind chants jovially.

_Fuck yeah,_ Erik replies. Charles smirks and fleetingly looks at his watch, which is digging into Erik’s right pectoral at the moment.

“Oh god, we have three minutes,” Charles exclaims, more like his usual self than the product of Erik’s deepest, darkest wishes that he’d just been. “Dinner, Friday… Six-thirty? Seven? Seven-thirty?”

“Seven sounds great,” breathes Erik, and Charles beams.

**Author's Note:**

> lmaoooooooo this kind of sucks but bitch i Do Not Care
> 
> [follow my blog](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lehnshit)


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